Tag: Mean Girls

Rising Above The Mean

.Reading time 6 minutes.

tumblr_nl7l03KF5d1uo8okwo1_500I think I loathe the word “bullying” due to the Real Housewives franchise. “Lisa VanderPump called me a bitch behind my back to all the other girls and now everyone hates me. Why am I being bullied :::chugs bottle of Rose, vomits into Celine purse:::?!?!” 

I thought the term “bullying” was left next to the monkey bars when we graduated from school. Never in my adult existence did I think people in their 20’s, 30’s, or 40’s would be walking around getting verbally victimized by awful people trying to make themselves feel better by pulling others down. But alas, here we are.  

But I’m not here to tell you to not “bully” others, because as grown adults, if you have to be told to not be shitty to your fellow human, well then, Google a good psychiatrist, I’m sure they can work wonders on you. 

As cliche as it is, this is one of my all-time favorite quotes that I think about regularly: “everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.” It’s not something I would ever put on a mug and drink tea out of, but it just stays with me. 

Simply because I have suffered from anxiety since I was little. When the insane worries are clawing at you from the inside out and there is nothing you can do to make it stop. When you want to just enjoy yourself, but the anxiety keeps pulling you back down. But you have to sit there, smile, and keep going … because as adults, what other options do we have? 

All people see are the smiles, jokes, and how well I’m put together. What people don’t see is when sometimes my heart constantly races and all I want to do is cry. I know those feelings all too well, therefore I can’t help but be sympathetic to others that could potentially be feeling the same way. Because I know one mean comment, or unjustifiable jab could cause me to spiral. And quite frankly, that’s just not an option for me. Because God dammit, I’m strong :::punches fist in air awkwardly::::.

It’s so easy to spread rumors, call people fat, ugly, stupid, a whore. But that person you insulted for no justifiable reason could be dealing with body image issues, or may have low self esteem. For example I sometimes slash always think I’m fat/overweight (I mean who doesn’t have those moments), so I don’t need the freakin’ peanut gallery sharing their thoughts on the topic, thanks. 

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That person you are berating with mean comments could be hanging on by a thread. You just never know. 

I know I’m coming off like a saint who is holier than thou and who has never done a bad thing in her life. Wrong. Completely wrong. I hate most people (kidding, kind of, sort of …) and I adore talking shit. Especially when I’m mad. Hi, I’m human. But when I do, I try to keep it to myself because I don’t want to be the reason that person has a shitty day, cries themselves to sleep, or does something unimaginable to themselves. 

Struggles don’t end when you become an adult, and apparently either does being ruthlessly mean for no reason. I’m sure I’ll be dealing with mean girls even when I’m in an old folks home doing synchronized swimming (#lifegoals). 

The only way to respond is through kindness. Throw that anger and sadness you have from the mean person into something positive, like sending a compliment to your fellow lady. I adore supporting other women. I really do. And in a selfish way, giving compliments to others makes me feel amazing. So I encourage all of you to compliment someone. Do it. It’s like Xanax in word form, trust. 

So to all five of you out there reading this who have been personally victimized by some woman/man with nothing better to do with his/her time then to bring you down, I feel you. I’ve been there. But keep your head up. We’re adults. Acts that are traditionally committed in a playground setting have no room in my life, nor in yours. Remember that.

And next time you want to take an unjustifiable or justifiable jab at someone for the hell of it, say it with me now, “everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” 

Be kind, for the love of fuck. 

Ps. I dedicate this post to Amy Poehler and Tina Fey because they are my idols and are everything I want to be as a woman.

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Retire Your “Sexy” Cat Ears …

.Reading time 6 minutes.

grady… because scary is the new sexy this Halloween.

We’ve all done it, ESPECIALLY if you are a college graduate. You say you won’t wear lingerie, throw on a pair of animal ears and call yourself a “mouse … duh” (it just wouldn’t be Halloween without quoting Mean Girls), but you will and you do … because every girl you know is, and dressing like an ironic tree just doesn’t seem like it would make you the coolest chick at the party anymore.

I was torn this Halloween. Do I go funny … or do I go scary, something I hadn’t done since I dressed like a witch in third grade. Most of the time I go funny … or as a pop culture reference. But this year … I was jonsin’ to scare the shit out of people. Don’t know why … just was. And what is scarier than the twins from The Shining, am I right?

And after attending a party this past weekend where I spent the night freaking people out, including me when I looked in the mirror … I realized that dressing scary is a thousand times better than dressing like a cat whore. I imagine the two guys reading this want to throw sharp objects at me for making a statement like that … but wait, I have my reasoning:

1. The Hotter The Mess The Better: Making yourself look dead is a breath of fresh air from the every day trial and tribulation of trying to make yourself look like a stud. I received more joy out of applying thick amounts of black eyeliner and smearing it down my face then if I was actually trying to perfect the cat eye look. I rubbed eye shadow on my lips to accent my paleness … I did things outside of my makeup comfort zone (since, I try my hardest to, you know, look alive on a daily basis). AND, not to mention, no one could tell if I was drunk or not. In fact at one time I looked at myself in the mirror mortified over how drunk I looked, but realized it was just my awesome death makeup. My biggest concern of the night wasn’t that my whore red lipstick had come off, but that I didn’t look scary enough. When, my friends, will you EVER get this opportunity?! It’s brilliant.

2. Get Comfy: Sure, wearing corsets, fish nets and stilettos seems like a fun idea, in essence, but it sucks. Badly. It literally encompasses everything about Life Sucking In A Strapless Bra. You’re cold, you’re in pain, your God damn fish nets are falling down, you look drunker than you are because you can’t walk in your stilettos, and every 10 seconds you have to keep checking to make sure your giggly bits haven’t popped out of their home for the evening. Awful. Hence why rocking a nightgown from the granny section of Walmart … yep WALMART … and flats was pure genius. I was warm, I kept my figure by belting it with ribbon, AND … my favorite part, I had pockets. POCKETS! I didn’t have to shove my phone in my cleavage, for once.

3. That’s a Scary Mask, Bro: I got to scare the shit out of people for funsies. I mean, this one speaks for itself. If there was someone chatting with me that I didn’t want to entertain anymore, I would just turn on the Shining charm, angle my face down and look seriously frightening. Memo was received after that one.

4. No Competition: Girls spend more time than you think trying to make themselves look like an amazingly, beautiful version of themselves in pop star/whorish cat form.  And when a hotter version of your costume would waltz in to the party, it would crush your evening and make you want to lose your voice talking shit. But when you are dressed as a zombie twin … it doesn’t matter. Oh hey, 14 versions of Lady Gaga … what’s good? I’m going to go twerk in my granny gown from Walmart. Byeeeee.

So there you have it, ladies. Don’t be afraid to get a little scary … it rules, mostly because of the comfort level. I don’t want to act like an ACTUAL granny here, but if you think guys will want to talk to you more just because you threw on some fish nets, short shorts and called yourself some sort of woodland creature … well, for shame. Have fun … that’s what Halloween is all about. I had fun scaring people … and if being a whorish squirrel will make your evening come alive … then so be it … who the hell am I to judge!

Happy Halloween, kids!